


Borrowed

by stellarstatelogic



Series: Forerunner Chronicles: Focuslight Revelation [9]
Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 02:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8268571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarstatelogic/pseuds/stellarstatelogic
Summary: Of a time that was theirs to share.





	

  

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Calyx approached the child with a personal robe of his befitting as he emerged from the nourishment bath seven days after. It was necessary, as I have insisted, it was a countermeasure to lessen the effects of his brevet mutation conducted by my late-husband. As I oversaw the adornment process, he looked towards the monitoring construct and past the machine to greet me by the essence. His blue irises were bright and calm and for a moment I contemplated on what he should be called by.

"Mist." He mouthed with a kind of smirk that was unique to himself.

For days hereinafter we've engaged ourselves with long, rhetoric examinations which were conducted daily throughout his rehabilitation. I've told the child that the questions I would ask would be necessary -- that ultimately he would be brought to Maethrillian to be presented to the Council and the Master Builder as a subject of my research in expertise. The child acknowledged my reasons with cooperative sympathy. He knew how my time should have been spent on other matters other than our internal politics. The Parasite's advance is imminent and every second spent on him could worth the future of an entire species. He has then decided to call the examinations as 'talks' whenever he desires to take them during the long walks within the library's parameter. I did not object. It was an attribute similar to my late-husband's liking.

It only took a few signatures to be able to conceptualize a parameter of his imprint. Part of me was relieved that it seemed that the essence which my late-husband has imprinted onto the child was by selective criteria. Yet the definition of such criteria intrigued me, and the child must have already recognized, I could see it from the kind of observance and resourcefulness that was unique to him. And like my late-husband, he would always take initiative in inquiry.

There was an area within the library that was more illuminated than others, filled with distilled nourishment liquid and vapor. It was where I catalog the wide, leafy, tropical florae of those in resemblance to what they've had within the Hakkor System. He's preferred to linger there to sit and contemplate and to stare at their purplish veins and pale, waxy surface. It was his second usual option aside from my study which I have linked an adjacent room for him to accommodate with. He would sit there, amidst the containment instruments of my collection, and I would sit close by yet never beside him.

"What is it, Mist?" He would turn to me and start the 'talk', which at this point I've already accepted his preference in calling me by my name, like how my late-husband would prefer. I have also noticed his increasing frequency in observing my facial expressions, which was a behavior trait perhaps unique to the child himself.

I shook my head and hoped that it would tempt him to let go of his curiosity. "It is irrelevant."

" _Nothing is irrelevant when you have that look on your face._ " He commented, and I turned my face to stare at him, whose eyes have widened, perhaps by a sudden fluster invoked by my own. I lowered my glance to avoid my face from his line of sight and to suppress my bitterness. The child is irrelevant to my anguish and the memories I have shared with my late-husband. I hoped and yet could not dare to hope that he would understand.

He stood up to approach me and bent down on his knees to meet my eyes. "Apologies. The words simply came to me. I meant no ill intent."

"I know." I said, and noticed the mixed emotions from his eyes. There was empathy and wrath, and mercy and vengeance. I cupped his cheeks into my bare palms to reorient my thoughts on his flesh and both of his essences. "The imprints have triggered, and you must learn to recognize the shift."

"I couldn't tell what had happened," he confessed; "it came naturally. He must have said it before. What had happened?"

I frowned.

He reached to my hands clasped upon his cheeks and reassured with his thumbs rubbed in a circular motion; "but you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to."

It was then I let down my walls. "I am intrigued by the Didact's intent and the sophistication to his brevet mutation conducted upon you," I said as I brushed one of my hand across the child's neural interface crystal. "A container within another container, layered and secured, _open at the close_ \-- you are him as _the Didact_ and _the Protector of the Ecumene_ , yet not entirely him as _the husband of the Librarian_ and _the father of their children_. Still, you have shown affinity and sentiments towards my wellbeing. It felt like you truly care, and I only wondered..." I paused in admittance, "...that if this imprint, both by rationale and sentiments, is all but for tactical and political means."

The child responded with the expression of disapproval, perhaps out of disappointment towards my hypothesis. He pushed me away and contained himself within his own contemplation. The silence between the both of us felt like a cold barrier which I did not dare to intrude nor trespass. I gave the child the patience which he deserved until he turned his attention back at me once again with face smooth and youthful yet stern.

"Part of me constantly yearns to embrace you and be embraced;" he said. "It feels home. The Calm is inspired from within when I smell your scent and hear your voice. These emotions simply _surge_ , like an instinct to search and to grasp when centuries have already passed and memories illuminate like markers in the dark. The only way they would lead is the way to find _you_. The Didact was very determined on that. _To find you_. I believe this determination is beyond his rationale."

His words have inspired a question. "Can you recall the day when the Didact has taken my hand at the place where he would ask me a question?"

He shook his head as expected; "No, but the residue within his network whispers. I recall the color of bright, pure snow, and the warmth shared from the _culmination_."

"......Aya."

"But the marriage was still political, wasn't it?"

"We were friends for a few centuries, I've noticed and respected his marital interest with another. And then there came a war that has become the legitimate reason for us to part."

"The Pleiades War. Our first full-scale encounter against _Humanity_."

"Aya. Therefore I won't expect you to know the reason why he was still willing to choose me." I glanced towards him grimly.

He shook his head once again. "I don't. But I don't think my lack of knowledge to that part of him is relevant. For better or for worse, my mind becomes calm when you are near and I believe there must be a reason to it. It might be what Riser said about his Lady, but he is ha _manune_. So I guess this sense of solace I feel can be a form of affection, love. You were the Didact's wife and I believe it's reasonable for whatever reason he would have chosen to spend a lifetime with you. I can feel how you've given him the Calm. That matters a lot -- I think."

The child's words beckoned nostalgia. I was moved for a moment, and wondered if perhaps the Calm was shared, but I know that sentiment would also be exclusive to my own memories. The anchor to my wandering was gone when Faber has sent him into the Burn and what was left of him would never be as  _whole_.

"You've shown me your work, your way to protect Life -- and I know you've fought in a way which he could not have fought by, and I know he admired that. It may be merely your Mantle of Responsibility as a Lifeworker and a Lifeshaper, but as yourself, your love has encompassed far too vast. I don't think I can dare to comprehend, but I too, admire it."

I nodded.

"Librarian," his eyes were dimmed down by his own hesitation.

"Yes?"

"I know I am not him. Perhaps I will never be able to be like him, to match _you_."

"You should never try to be," I forced myself into a more casual expression. "By political situation, I can see how the Council will re-assume your post as _the Didact_. They need _the Didact's_  involvement with our hierarchy, and you will know their reasons soon enough when you bear presence within the Chamber. Yet -- remember --  _you are the product of your own judgement_. You will shape the Mantle of your own by the world-lines you weave and embolden. The knowledge my husband has gifted to you is a gift _the Didact_ has left for me and the Ecumene. It does not enslave you into my binding."

He nodded yet bargained in resilience. "But we can still be _friends_ , can we not? Start at the close, like a circle, but backwards."

I contemplated, in facing my own share of dilemma between my role and my desire. "Only if you would like to," I responded passively.

The child nodded and took his seat next to me. His hand was placed upon his thigh and turned upwards to reveal the empty palm. I knew the proper response towards such gesture would be overlapping my own hand atop his, yet I hesitated.

"I have a _feeling_ that I have done this before." I teased.

"Definitely not for the first time," he played along, with his fingers bent repeatedly in a grabbing fashion. "But first time for _**us**_."

I surrendered and heeded, and from the corner of my eyes I could notice his smirk as our palms now fit against each other's. “Feels like _culmination_ ;” he locked my fingers in place while he made such comment, and I frowned towards his petty tease, who then soon leaned down to hush my reprimand before my reflex could dart away from his advance.


End file.
